Thunder and Trauma
by fandm-writer
Summary: Jason Todd is afraid of thunderstorms because the loud thunder reminds him of the explosion that resulted in his death. Luckily Tim is around to help.


**Description:** _Jason Todd is afraid of thunderstorms because the loud thunder reminds him of the explosion that_ resulted _in his death. Luckily Tim is around to help._

* * *

 **Warning for language because well, Jason.**

Jason shoved his hands in the pockets of his thick leather jacket, he couldn't decide if it was because they were cold or to hide the trembling. Rain drops landed on his red helmet as the dark clouds lurked above.

He fucking hated storms.

It wasn't the rain, he actually didn't mind the rain. The way it fell and glistened off the dark pavement was actually kinda beautiful. Nor was it the dark menacing clouds, he always thought it was cool the way the city light would almost make it look like they were glowing.

It wasn't the lightening either, the odds of him getting struck were pretty low. Although there were times (he would never ever admit to it) when he would be at the height of an anxiety induced panic and would wonder if he would get struck. If maybe he deserved to get struck, if maybe he was just something dark and evil that woke up with Jason Todd's memories. He knew it wasn't logical. Jason tried to stay away from those thoughts, to bury those fears as deep as he could. In the end, it wasn't the lightening, he could deal with that. It was the...

 _Boom!_

Jason jumped and felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and growing panic as the load rumble echoed through the sky above.

 _Thunder_. It was the thunder. The clap, the rumble, the way the ground would shake. It was the way that when the storm was close it sounded like it was all around you. The sound would stir something inside of Jason, leaving him with shaking hands and a growing sense of dread.

It reminded him too much of the explosion that took his life, of the last thing he heard before he woke up in a coffin. He hated them, hated the way they could break down his walls and hit just the right nerve. The way they could take him back to that moment where he was just a scared kid who died realizing his father...no, _Bruce_ , wasn't coming to save him.

Jason continued walking down the street, debating in his mind what his next move was. He didn't want to stay out here but at the same time he didn't really want to back to one of his safe houses. The power might go out, which was yet another trigger Jason was trying to avoid.

It wasn't that he particularly minded living without power, he had done of many times when he was a child. It was the moment that the power went out that bothered him. The way the thunder clap would echo, and then suddenly everything would go black and deathly quiet. Which yet again, reminded him of his death. Those were the last things he heard and saw. A boom, then nothing.

Then he woke up clawing at the lid of a dark coffin, devoid of sound save him own screams.

It, in a way, felt like one trauma transition into the next. His triggers made him feel stupid and childish. Jason knew it wasn't logical, he knew it was all in his head. It felt real to him though.

Jason ducked into an ally that provided a little cover from the rain. He walked to the back and leaned against the wall, sliding down to a sitting position. Another roar of thunder sent a jolt thorough him.

 _Okay Jason, just breathe, just breathe._ He thought.

 _Inhale._

 _Exhale_

 _Inhale._

Jason took off his helmet and leaned his head back against the cool ally wall. He took out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled and let the smoke fill his lungs, before slowly blowing it out.

He just hoped the nicotine would do something to take edge off his shot nerves. Jason took another drag and exhaled, watching as the smoke drifted up and slowly faded into oblivion.

Several minutes later he finished his smoke and smashed the lit end against the slightly damp ground, effectively putting it out. He flicked the cigarette stub in a random direction and leaned his head against the wall once more, closing his eyes. The cigarette had helped, but just barely. He still felt the anxiety, leaving a sick feeling in its wake.

Then there were the memories, the flashbacks he was trying so hard to keep out of his mind. He continued to breathe slowly.

Jason began to hear what sounded like a scuffle close by. He sighed and stood up, putting on his helmet. Maybe it would help to beat the crap out of a few low life thugs, who were most likely mugging someone. At this point he'd probably try anything.

The Red Hood silently crept out of the ally and along street towards the sound of the altercation. He moved soundlessly and kept to the shadows as the rain continued to splash onto the street. Jason turned a corner and to his surprise, found that the source of the racket was none other than Red Robin fending off at least dozen thugs.

Jason knew the kid could handle them, but he jumped in anyway. It would give him something else to focus on. Who knew, maybe working out some of his aggression would calm him down.

Tim was wielding his Bo-staff and Jason just decided to go hand-to-hand. The two vigilantes fought well together as they always seemed to. There fighting styles were slightly different, Jason hit harder, Tim hit more often, but on some level they're styles were similar. They could fall into a rhythm pretty easily.

Within a about a minute, all the thugs were unconscious. Jason had refrained from seriously injuring them, seeing as he really didn't feel like getting any shit from the replacement tonight.

"Hey." Red Robin spoke, as he squatted down and started zip tying the thug's hands together.

"Hey Red, what are you doing in this part of town?" Jason questioned.

"Been collecting intel on these guys for a week. They're a new gang, they usually stay away from this side of town though." Tim replied, standing back up.

Another clap of thunder boomed and Jason tensed, immediately hoping Tim hadn't noticed. There goes any progress he might have made in calming down.

Tim eyed him for a moment. _Crap, he noticed. Dammit._

"You okay?" Tim asked, suspiciously.

"Fine, baby bird." Jason replied.

"Well, I'm beat. I think I'm gonna turn in for the night." Jason added, beginning to walk away.

"It's pretty nasty out here, with the storm and all. I got a safe house a few blocks away, if you want you can crash there." Tim offered.

Jason stopped but didn't turn around. He wanted to say yes, he didn't want to be alone. Especially not now. But he was The Red Hood and he wasn't about to show weakness.

"Nah, I've been in worse. Besides, not sure the Bat would be too thrilled. Probably thinks I'm a 'bad influence' or whatever."

"Batman's off world with league right now, but suit yourself. It's too bad, I've got some of Alfred's cookies." Tim replied, and Jason could see the slight smirk.

And that was exactly what he needed, a reason, an excuse. Because a person would have to be crazy to refuse Alfred's cooking and everyone in the dysfunctional bat-clan knew it. Plus Jason was never one to turn down free food.

"Alright, fine. But I'm only come because of the cookies." Red Hood sighed.

Tim chuckled.

* * *

Tim sat at the desk in his bedroom, his tired eyes scanning his laptop screen. He should be asleep, like Jason, who was currently passed out on his couch.

However, he had research to do for his next case. The rain continued to pour outside, Tim took a sip of coffee and attempted to make himself focus. The events of early that evening still wouldn't leave his mind.

He thought about Jason, about the storm. About how the fearless Red Hood had seemingly flinched when the thunder clapped. Jason had hid it well, but Tim had noticed. He was a detective after all.

He had also noticed Jason's off behavior and the fact that he was shaking ever so slightly. That's when it hit him, Jason was afraid of the storm, and Tim could guess why. Of course, Tim knew Jason would never admit to being afraid of thunder. Let's be honest, what adult who had a reputation as a hardcore vigilante would?

Tim could only imagine what Jason's mind must be like, probably a mine field. Because, being murdered and blown up doesn't exactly do wonders for mental health. Tim often wondered if any of the others had ever really thought about what it must be like from Jason's perspective.

Morals and justice aside, if they had ever really thought about what it's like in his head. Thought about why he does what he does, and reacts the way he reacts. That's the thing about people, they usually have a reason.

Tim had thought about it before, and he had thought about it even more when he had become Red Robin. After all that had happened, Tim finally understood what it was like to be replaced, he finally understood why Jason had hated him at first. Being replaced sucked.

Yes, Jason had taken it to a bit of an extreme, but that was the type of guy he was. Go big or go home. Plus Jason's circumstances were a bit... _different_.

Eventually though, the two former Robins had reached an understanding. They had begun get along and understand each other just a little bit better. They had become, in an odd way, like actual brothers.

That was why Jason was snoring on his couch, Tim knew he couldn't just let Jason go. He had issues, he'd made mistakes, but that doesn't mean someone should have to silently suffer alone.

Tim sighed and looked back at his screen, eyes scanning over digital text. He kept doing research and gathering information, chugging the rest of his coffee without taking his eyes off the computer.

Then several minutes later a particularly load thunder-clap boomed. It sounded like it was right above the house and Tim couldn't sworn the ground shook a little.

 _Crap_. Tim thought.

Not a second after the noise, he heard a yell from the living room.

 _Crap squared._

Tim sprang from his seat and immediately ran out the door and into the living room area. He stopped abruptly as he rounded the corner, skidding across the carpet a little as he did.

Jason was on the floor, the blanket he had been covered up with along with him. He was on his hands and knees, his fingers dug into the carpet and his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Tim couldn't tell if it was a because of a nightmare or the thunder, probably both.

It was odd sight for Tim, he had never seen him like this. He was used to seeing him as the Red Hood or just Jason. Tough, fearless, brash.

The man who could make entire gangs head for the hills at the very mention of his name. But now, he seemed...vulnerable, scared. A part of Tim wondered if this how he really was underneath. How he had always been, but had put up enough walls to hide it.

"Jason, you alright?" Tim spoke, walking over and kneeling next to him.

It didn't seem to register.

"Jason." Tim repeated.

His hands were balled in fists around the carpet and his chest continued to heave.

"Jason, it's okay. You're here, not there. You're alright." Tim stated, putting a hand on Jason's shoulder.

Through the haze something registered and Jason looked at Tim. For a moment he just stared blankly, then recognition flared in his eyes. Jason took a few deep steady breaths and sat back against the couch. After he began to calm down, Tim spoke again.

"You okay." He inquired, his hand still on Jason's shoulder.

"I'm fine." Jason replied.

Jason didn't smack his hand away and like he normally would, so Tim took that as a sign that he definitely wasn't 'fine.'

However, Tim didn't push the issue either. He had long ago learned that it would get him nowhere with Jason. In the end, it would most likely lead to him leaving. Instead, Tim gave him some space and waited for him to fully calm down. Eventually he did, and got back up on the couch.

"Sorry if I woke you man, you should go get some rest." Jason said quietly, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"I wasn't actually asleep, not really tired anyway." Tim shrugged. That last part was a lie.

"Really 'cause you look like crap." Jason remarked.

"And you don't?" Tim countered.

"Fair enough." Jason replied.

Tim plopped down on the couch next to him.

"Want to see if there's anything good on TV?" Tim asked.

"Why not." Jason shrugged.

Jason grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels. After a while they found a show they both liked, they watched it for a while, occasionally laughing at the funnier parts. Jason seemed to relax a bit, even as the storm raged outside. Tim imagined it helped to simply not be alone. He secretly hoped that this whole ordeal would in some way show Jason that didn't always have to go at it alone.

Eventually they both nodded off, sleeping for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Tim awoke to the bright morning light, blinding him as he opened his eyes. He glanced around, he was covered with a blanket, Jason was gone.

Tim wasn't surprised, it didn't expect Jason to stick around. Tim closed his eyes again, coving his face with the blanket. He figured he could get in a little more precious sleep before he had to leave for a conference at Wayne Enterprises.

Then Tim realized he smelt something, it smelt like breakfast. Tim was a bit shocked, he hadn't woke up to breakfast smells since he had moved out of the Manor.

He immediately sat up and popped his head over the back of the couch peering into his kitchen. Sure enough, Jason was in the kitchen cooking eggs.

"Wow dude, you were out cold. Welcome back to the land of the living." Jason said over his shoulder as he finished up the eggs.

"You're one to talk." Tim replied, standing up and padding into the kitchen.

Jason made a cross between a snort and a laugh. Tim sat down at the kitchen table as Jason put the food in plates and turned off the burner.

"I didn't know you could cook." Tim raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think I am, a talentless thug?" Jason replied, offended as he put the plates on the table and took a seat across from Tim.

Tim nodded teasingly, and Jason flipped him the bird. Which in turn caused Tim to smirk. Tim looked down at the food, it actually smelled really good, so he took a bite.

"Damn Jason, this is really good." Tim stated, taking other one.

Jason sarcastically tipped an imaginary hat.

"Seriously, where did you learn to cook like this?" Tim inquired.

Jason shrugged. "When I was a kid it wasn't uncommon for me to have to make dinner, guess I got good at it."

"You should come over more often." Tim joked.

"About that." Jason mumbled.

"I just wanted to say...thanks for...you know, letting me stay here last night." Jason spoke quietly.

"It's no problem, Jay. You're my brother and you can stay over any time you want." Tim answered.

"Cool, uh. thanks." Jason replied and dug into his breakfast.

Tim could've sworn he saw a small smile on his face.


End file.
